


What You Need to Hear

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, implied ot4 - Freeform, mentions of Noctis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: Ignis was always the best at comforting Prompto after a nightmare. Now, Prompto only hoped he could be as comforting for him.





	What You Need to Hear

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Promnis week's day 3 prompt "Ignis comforting Prompto from reoccurring nightmares", but it is something I've been meaning to write for a while.

Prompto was woken by a blood curdling sound. At first, he thought it was a dying animal, but then he noticed the sound was coming from Ignis who sat bolt upright beside him. His breathing came hard and ragged, newly unseeing eyes failing to scan the room, dagger materialized and at-the-ready.

“Iggy?” Prompto asked cautiously.

Ignis did not relax, did not even seem to acknowledge his presence. The dagger did not evaporate.

Prompto set a gentle hand on his shoulder. Immediately, Ignis’ face snapped toward him. “Noct?” he asked in a whisper Prompto could barely make out over the squeal of the train tracks.

“He’s next door. He’s fine,” he said even though Noctis had not woken up in two whole days and nothing about their situation felt fine.

“Prompto.”

“Yeah, it’s me, Iggy.”

Ignis was silent but his body shook. Prompto wrapped an arm around him, tugging him against his side. “Was it a nightmare?”

There was a long moment of silence before he finally spoke. “There was only darkness. I was searching for Noctis. I called out his name, but he never answered. The longer I searched the more I realized I was alone in the dark. I called out for you and Gladio but neither of you answered.” His hand found and clenched at Prompto’s thigh.

Prompto frowned, understanding well how it felt to be utterly alone inside a nightmare. It was beyond frightening. His arm tightened around Ignis’ shoulder.

“I am still searching,” Ignis muttered.

“It’ll get better. You’ll get used to it. Probably.” Prompto was not about to pretend he understood what it was like to be blind.

Ignis did not reply.

While Ignis became better adept at blindness, his nightmares only worsened. Losing Noctis to the crystal was a hard blow for all of them. While Gladio tried and failed to hide his own pain, Ignis was practically as much an open book as Prompto himself.

That first night without Noct, Ignis cried out in such agony and pain, Prompto swore he could feel it in his own bones. Gladio shook him. Ignis’ cry rang out louder and he crumpled in on himself.

Prompto lunged forward, pushing Gladio’s hands away. “Stop! You’re only making it worse.”

“But he’s—” Gladio adjusted himself on the bed, face crinkled with concern. “Something’s wrong with him.” He inspected Ignis’ middle searching for signs of injury.

“I think it was a nightmare.”

Gladio looked even more at a loss.

Prompto had always been the one to suffer nightmares, and Ignis was always the best at comforting him after them. It wasn’t surprising, given how eloquent Ignis always was with words and hands. In contrast, Noctis constantly tripped over his own tongue and Gladio would hold back, entirely unsure what he should do. Noctis would sometimes hug Prompto, but it was never sure enough like Ignis’. It was never as reassuring. Gladio’s hands always hovered over him as if he were afraid just to touch him, words of comfort sounding hollow mixed with his own unease.

In comparison, Ignis served as well as a security blanket. His arms not only held him securely but pulled him in close and protected. His nose would brush in his hair as he spoke softly against his ear. “I’m here,” he would always begin with (knowing it was what Prompto needed to hear most), always followed by “I’ve got you.”

Ignis understood him in a way the others didn’t. He knew it was abandonment Prompto feared more than anything, that reassurance of their presence and acceptance was what he needed.

Once Prompto’s breathing evened, he would replace his nose with his lips. He would kiss at his hair, next his cheeks, then each eyelid, and finally his lips. Never once would his grip on him falter as Prompto slowly returned the warm, chaste kisses. Only when Prompto moved against the hold of his arms to wrap his own around Ignis in turn did he ever let go (only when he knew Prompto was ready). Then, when they finally moved down to sleep again, he would hold him once again, with his chin rested atop his head with Prompto’s face pressed against his chest, a silent reminder that he was there even if his mind told him otherwise.

Now, Prompto only hoped he could be as comforting for him. He wrapped his arms around him gently at first, gauging his reaction, then pulled him snug against him. He nudged Ignis’ face into the crook of his neck with his chin.

“I’m here, Iggy, it’s me,” he said. Ignis stopped making that wretched noise, but his body did not relax. That was not what he needed to hear; they both knew it. But the words he needed would have been a lie.

He felt Ignis mouth Noct’s name against his neck even if he did not voice it. Prompto swallowed, unsure what to say next. Gladio was no help, inched toward the edge of the bed, bulky limbs twisted inward.

“Noct isn’t here right now,” he finally said, unsurprised by the advisor’s flinch, “but me and Gladio are.” He rocked the older man against him. “You don’t need to search for us. Or Noct,” he added quickly. “He’ll come find you, don’t worry.”

Ignis did relax some at that, but there was still noticeable tension in his body. His hands came up to clutch at the back of Prompto’s nightshirt. “I failed him.”

The words stung, even second-hand. Prompto’s hands trembled but he forced his grip to remain steady. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “None of us knew.”

“But we should have. We—I—should have gone with him.”

Prompto felt tears welling in his eyes. What could he possibly say to make him understand how wonderful and perfect he is?

“No,” Gladio’s gruff voice cut through the tension like a knife. “I’m the one that failed. I am his shield.”

Now Prompto was crying and not even bothering to hide it. There were no words to make this better. For any of them. He kept holding Ignis but his eyes met Gladio’s as best they could through the darkness. “There was nothing we could do.”

None of them believed that, but there was nothing else he could say.

Prompto’s own nightmares became more frequent after that. Between himself and Ignis, a nightmare was had just about every night. (Perhaps that was what eventually drove Gladio away.)

In essence, their dreams were the same: they ended up alone because of their own inadequacy. It only made sense that losing Noct, then Gladio, would make them that much worse.

Perhaps, it was best that Ignis was the most proficient at comforting Prompto since now he was all the comfort he had. Against his ruthless mind which told him Gladio left because he was sick of them and their wallowing instead of his own grief and helplessness. Against the thought that Noctis would never return or that Ignis truly despised him. All that would eventually fall away when Ignis wrapped him in his arms.

Yet, Prompto wondered if he was the best for Ignis to be stuck with. All he needed was the reminder that Ignis was there with him and cared for his lungs to work normally again, but Ignis’ nightmares hit harder. Whereas Prompto’s fear that anyone close to him would grow tired of him was easy to deal with through reassurances, Ignis’ belief that it was somehow his fault Noct was gone was not something that could be overcome with simple words.

All Prompto could offer him was himself, but they both knew what he really needed was Noctis back. Only then might he finally forgive himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to have a problem lately with making things angstier than I originally intended. My bad


End file.
